


The conception

by lilmissmaya



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, birth scene, gender fluid snufkin, how did this turn out so long, implied sex, past drinkin, the baby fic no one asked for, undercover gender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-05-16 03:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19309270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilmissmaya/pseuds/lilmissmaya
Summary: nothing tastes right, and Snufkin's a bit queasy in the mornings. could something be up? Moomin counts up the weeks and comes to a conclusion he does not like. after all, there was that encounter between him and his best friend on midsummer night...





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: I changed some of the tags for a genderfluid!snufkin rather than fem. I hope it helps! please enjoy this fic and let me know if you like it, for some reason this stupid thing is close to my heart.

Snufkin sipped his coffee and made a face. 

“Is something wrong?” moomin looked over the stack of pancakes his mother had put on the table.

“It doesn’t taste right today.” it didn’t smell all that appetizing either, so he put it aside. He was feeling a little queasy anyway.

“Oh dear.” momma picked up his mug and sniffed it. “Maybe pappa scorched it again. I’ll make a new pot. jam?”

“Um.” his stomach roiled. “No, the toast is fine.” plain, dry toast. Inoffensive and easy on the stomach. 

“Hungover, snufkin?” pappa teased. “I warned you about the valley rum.”

“Not hungover.” he hadn’t touched a drop of rum since the midsummer festival. The hangover after that was so bad he’d lost the taste for it. This felt like- ug, it felt like a hangover. 

But toast and a bit of unsweetened tea helped, and by midmorning he felt better. Life continued on as usual. Afternoons were hot, evenings had a bit of a chill to them as summer crept into fall. 

“Are you feeling better now?” moomin was being a wonderful backrest as snufkin fished, half asleep in the heat. The cicadas were buzzing, counting down the last days of summer. 

“Yeah. must have been something I ate.”

“You said the fish stew smelled off yesterday. And about your camp coffee the day before.” moomin frowned. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Hungry, mostly.” once the early morning nausea went away, he was starving. Maybe he had some peanut butter in his pack. Peanut butter and… he might still have some little dried salt fish. Mmmm. 

“I can’t believe you’re eating that.” moomin watched in horror as snufkin scooped up peanut butter with the dried fish snacks.

“It’s really good! You want some?”

“Not right now.” moomin was thinking, thinking very hard. 

 

They went back to the moomin house for supper, bringing along the trout snufkin had caught and cleaned up to share with the family. Fried up with potatoes, it made a good meal. Especially with vinegar put all over it. He’d never liked it that way before, but for some reason the sourness just really hit the spot. 

“You should try it, moomin.” he offered the bottle to him. 

“I’ve never had the taste for vinegar on my potatoes.” pappa said, finishing up his fish. “But mamma loved it when she was having you, moomin.”

“It’s true! I couldn’t get enough of it. I put it on everything.” she laughed. “And then when I ate a whole jar of olives in a sitting and it was the most amazing thing I had ever eaten.”

Moomin’s eyes grew wide and he counted on his fingers, then counted again. He didn’t like the numbers he came up with. 

“Snufkin?!” he said suddenly. “Could I talk to you? Now?”

“Um… okay.” moomin took him by the paw onto the back porch, then carefully looked around to make sure no one was snooping. “What’s going on?”

“When was the last time you had your period?” he asked urgently. 

“Um…” before midsummer? “You know it doesn’t come every time.”

“You should have had a period last week. And you missed the one before that.”

“So?” moomin was nearly bouncing in agitation.

“So you’ve missed two periods after-” and he dropped his voice to a whisper. “After we had sex!”

Snufkin blinked. And blinked again. “You can’t get me pregnant… can you?”

“Apparently!” he flung his arms out. “You heard pappa, mamma loved vinager on everything when she was having a baby.”

“I uh…. Huh.” he sat down heavily on the railing.

 

You see, snufkin had something of a secret.  
He had been born a female.

It wasn’t any sort of tragic thing, it was just easier to go out and wander where one will as a man. He’d done it for so long, presented himself as himself that it was just second nature. It wasn’t really a secret, more of a habit. Moomin knew, Mamma knew. Pappa was too wrapped up in his own thing to notice or care. Little My knew of course, being his half-sister. No one else, or if they did, they were too polite to say anything about it. 

His first instinct was to scream to get it out of him. It only lasted for a moment, dying down into uncertainty. He didn’t like kids… okay, some kids weren’t so bad. The woodies were okay, but he’d only taken care of them for a night. It’d be different taking care of his own kid… right? 

But a kid was something that’d tie him down, a responsibility… 

“How can we be sure I’m pregnant?” of course he was pregnant. He was an idiot. His mother was fertile as a goose, plus he had scores of nieces and nephews. Frankly, it was shocking he hadn’t gotten pregnant from just being around moomin this much. Heck, for all he knew that’s how it happened. 

“We could ask momma.” he rocked back and forth on his toes. “How long until you have the baby?”

“I don’t know. Maybe sometime in the winter? Maybe spring.” moomin’s eyes grew wide.

“You’ll have to stay here!”

“What? No! I’ll be fine.”

“You can’t have a baby in the middle of the woods! You should be with your family.” it was a perfectly true statement, but it made him feel… trapped. 

“I… I need to think about this.” he stepped off the porch, fumbling at his belt for his pipe and matches. 

“Snufkin, I’m sorry!” but he ignored moomin, heading for the woods. He needed to think.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any confusion about labels and such. snufkin in this is probably more gender fluid than anything, but mostly thinks of himself in male pronouns after so long as presenting as male as a disguise because of the freedom it presents. thus, I'll use male pronouns for him for now.   
> thank you all for understanding and reading this far. (let's just say I'm working through some things with my own gender identity and lack of fertility while EVERYONE ELSE AROUND ME HAS 100 BABIES.)

Moomin slumped back inside the house, his parents looking concerned. 

“Did you two have a fight?” momma gave him a hug. “Is everything alright?”

“Momma, pappa… snufkin’s late.”

“Late?” pappa looked between them.

“/late/ late.” 

“Oh, that would explain it. How late?”

“What do you mean- oh!” pappa made the connection. Apparently he had been paying attention all along. “The coffee! And the vinegar!”

“Two months? Six-ish weeks.” moomin kept track, mostly because like clockwork snufkin would get grumpy and headachey right before it started. 

“Not too far along then. Still time to work things out.” she kissed his forehead. “Oh, I need to start knitting. And snufkin will need some clothes for when he’s further along. Oh pappa, could you find the bassinet?” she paused, pondering. “Will the baby have a tail? Oh, dear, might as well make a tail hole in the nappies just in case...”

Snufkin stomped around all night until he ran out of pipeweed, no closer to a decision than when he left. On one paw, moomin was perfectly right. Having a baby in the middle of the woods and alone wasn’t a good thing. 

But staying in moominvalley all winter…. His throat tightened up. He could barely stand being in a house overnight… all winter? Oh he’d lose his mind. It was enough to stay in the valley during the warm months. He regretted everything. 

No, that wasn’t true. He didn’t regret the events of that night. It’d been wonderful, just the two of them. No anxieties, no worries about what others might think, just them in the dark. 

He splashed his face with stream water, trying to focus. He couldn’t settle down, moomin knew this, and he was just going to break his heart. 

He should get back to his tent and get some sleep, perhaps it will look better in the morning. 

 

Nope, it didn’t look any better. He was still pregnant, and he still wasn’t sure what to do with a baby. And he was sick to his stomach again. 

He sucked it up and went back to the house. And from the look momma gave him, she knew. Sigh.

“Tea and toast, dear?” he nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?” he shook his head no. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Moomin was shy and sheepish, but seemed happy that snufkin had come back at all. 

The day was quiet, the two of them too tired out by the heat to talk. Their problem was never that far away, hanging over them the whole time. 

“What if…” he started, fiddling with some straw, trying to braid it. “You just come home early?”

“That would be the smartest thing.” snufkin agreed. He might not be in the mood to be wandering when he was too fat to see his feet and having to pee every 15 minutes. 

“Are you mad at me?”

“Of course not. I guess if I was ever going to have a baby, it’d be yours.” he flopped back into the grass and rubbed his face. He wasn’t going to be weepy. 

“Should we tell my friends?” moomin hadn’t even told them about midsummer night. It seemed like… a private thing. 

“Not yet. I guess if they ask don’t lie, but… let's not tell anyone.”

They laid together in the long grass for a while, the sun heading to the western horizon and making the shadows long. The days were getting shorter, inch by inch. Hesitantly, moomin reached out and put a paw on snufkin’s belly. 

“Careful.” he smiled. “That’s how we got into this trouble.”

“I, uh-”

“Then again, I can’t get any more pregnant.” he rolled on his side to face moomin, kissing his nose. there was still a shyness. They hadn’t made any promises to each other, no declarations of love and monogamy. But then again, for seemingly years now they had been spending every summer together in wonderful laziness. Wasn’t that a sort of marriage? 

They’d be late for supper, but the long grass would hide them from prying eyes-

 

Moomin and his friends were planning a small adventure, one last one before winter set in. supposedly there were caves on the far end of the beach, and they wanted to explore them. Snufkin had declined, wanting to get things ready for when he had to leave. Things had to be repaired or replaced. Truthfully, he probably didn’t want them to get too close and notice he was different. 

Sniff was watching snufkin repair the hem of his coat, wiggling his large ears. 

“Doesn’t snufkin look more… cuddly lately?”

Moomin’s fur puffed up in alarm. 

“What?” snorkmaiden asked, following his gaze and frowning. 

“Like, he looks like he’d be comfy to nap with. Squishier.”

He wasn’t wrong, snufkin had put on some weight, and despite the baggy clothes he tended to wear, he was noticeably curvier. Snorkmaiden was glaring at moomin, as if she’d put the dots together on her own. 

“Try it and die, Sniff.” Little My interrupted. “He only likes napping with moomin.”

“Oh.” his whiskers drooped. “That’s too bad.”

“There might be berries up on the cliffs, Sniff.” the prospect of food caught his attention, snufkin promptly forgotten. 

Little my frowned for a moment before stomping over to her sibling. 

 

“You’re getting fat.” Little My stared at snufkin with a critical eye. “And where did /you/ get breasts from?”

Snufkin tugged his coat to cover them a little more. Seemingly overnight they had appeared after a lifetime of being flat. (in fact, it was his sisters’ constant teasing about his lack of assets that had inspired him to cut off his hair and go wandering as a boy.) it was weird, and people were starting to notice that snufkin was looking rather… curvy. And after a near lifetime of being male, thinking of himself as male… He was more than ready to disappear into the woods for a while. Be fat and awkward where no one could see him.

“Moominmamma has just been fattening me up for winter.” he lied. “And maybe I’m a late bloomer.”

She frowned at him. “You’re lying.”

“Maybe.” he took stock of his pack. Bedroll, ticking, canteen, waterproof matches. Pot, kettle, tin cup, knife, axe. Rags for that time of the month, even though he wasn’t going to need them for a while, it was better to have them in case. Washcloth, soap, toothbrush. Tin of tea, emergency medicines and bandages. Fork, spoon, bowl. He’d need to gather up non-perishable food too, make sure his sewing kit had thread for repairs. Silk tent, tarps, rope. He’d have to make sure the tent was waterproofed again before he headed out. His boots too. And maybe knit a new pair of stockings.

Little My watched him repack everything. He was hiding something from her, and she desperately wanted to know what it could be. He wasn’t sick, he’d fattened up and in fact looked rather healthy. And there was the steadily growing stack of knitted baby clothes in moominmamma’s workbasket-

“Someone knocked you up. Who.”

“Little my…”

“Because I need to murder them.”

“I’ve had boyfriends before.”

“Liar. you’ve never had a boyfriend and you don’t like anyone but…. Moomin.” she snarled. “He did this to you!”

“It’s fine, I’m fine! Accidents happen, you know our family.”

“Yes and he knew too.”

“We were drunk. We were so very, very drunk.” a very poor excuse for something that deep down he’d wanted to happen. she grumped, crossing her arms.

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Go off for a while and come back when it’s time.”

“I mean after.” she grumbled. “You’re going to keep it, aren’t you?” it never occurred to him there was other options. “Mymble could take it, or one of our sisters. Not sure they would notice if you slipped another one in there.”

“No.” he shook his head. “I’m keeping the baby. I spend most of the year here anyway.” and when winter came…. well that was a worry for another day. He’d just worry about not being the center of attention, getting ready for his trek south and such.

“You’re still getting fat.”

“Well yes, that is part of the process.” momma already let out one pair of pants for him, and was making another. Another thing that was making him feel weird. “Thank you for pointing that out.”


	3. Chapter 3

Spring was several weeks away, and snufkin had been having labor pains since morning. 

He didn’t realize it, of course, he’d been having cramps every so often for weeks now. False labor, moominmamma told him, it’d happen towards the end as his body would get ready for delivery. He packed up his camp and headed down a random path. Still time to wander. 

Except… he rubbed his back, trying to breathe through the cramp. That was a bad one. Walking usually helped, he’d just-

Oof, that was another bad one. Oh. oh no. 

He was a good week’s walk from the valley. Who knew where the nearest village was. He needed to find a place to camp- oooooh that felt like a real labor cramp. Ooo, this was happening faster than he’d thought it would. He backtracked to where he set up the night before, slowly. The contractions weren’t close, but every time it hit he had to stop. There was no time to panic, he needed to set up his tent and get a little fire going. 

Normally when setting up a camp he’d sweep up the dead leaves and pine needles, and light a fire to dry out the ground where he’d sleep and warm up the windbreak. A large fallen tree usually worked great, a rock face was even better. No time today. He tried to breath through the contractions and get the tent up. That was about all he could do, staking it down as quickly as he could.

This was happening, this was really happening. In the middle of the forest, by himself. Women must do this all the time, he told himself, curling up around his belly. He wanted his mom, he wanted moominmamma, he wanted moomin. He didn’t want this baby, he didn’t want to be giving birth- ohh that was a different one, it hurt deeper. He managed to get his coat off, his belt and pants off. What he was supposed to be doing? It hurt too bad to think, to remember what he had been told to expect. 

He’d been stupid, he should have stayed and ohhhh that was bad. He needed to push, was that good? Bad? There was a gush of fluid and he felt a little better, for a moment. And then the contractions started again. He pushed, tried to breath, and pushed again. 

And then relief. 

He sunk down to the ground, taking a moment to catch his breath. He felt weak, light headed and covered in sweat. The baby, was it okay-

A loud yowling filled the tent, expressing its displeasure at being in this cold, bright world. 

“Come here baby, come on…” he somehow managed to tie and cut the cord, before taking a good look at his child. She was small, red and fuzzy, with a tail. She looked more like snufkin than moomin, she had his face, not moomin’s long snout and was absolutely perfect in every way. He wiped her dry with his spare shirt, tried to clean up the mess of fluids and afterbirth that came with delivery, wrapped her up in the blanket. There was leftover firewood, which was good, because he hadn’t the strength to go look for or cut any. Just enough to keep them warm. 

He took the other blanket, put her against his chest and wrapped the both of them up, and slept. 

 

It took him a day to get his strength back enough to head out towards moomin valley. He’d made a sling for little moomindottir, so she was warm and snug under his coat, and with a little practice he could even breastfeed her without her getting chilled from the air. His packed food was low, and he didn’t want to take the time to fish. Just to get back to moomin valley and- hide? Rest? Hole up and growl at anyone who might touch his daughter? 

Huh. That thought had to have come from his father’s side. His stomach growled, interrupting his thoughts. He had jerky and tea left in his pack, nothing else. He could make a little broth with the dried meat at least, and the heat would make him feel fuller. 

For the first time in his life, he was looking forward to a real bed inside four solid walls. One warmed up by moomin, if possible. He was damp and cold and sore in places he had no idea could be sore, and it made his progress slower than he’d like. 

The baby seemed to be doing pretty well, despite everything. Being newly born, she didn’t do much but sleep, eat and poo. Lucky kit. As long as she was warm and her belly full, she was happy. His spare shirt turned into nappies, and that took up more time. 

His thoughts were scattered, he was tired and hungry and snarled when any curious forest creature tried to get a look at the baby. The rational part of his brain knew that they didn’t mean any harm, they just wanted to meet snufkin’s child. The sleep-deprived, hormone-soaked part of his brain was going to rip the throat out of anything that touched her. 

A wave of dizziness hit him, he slumped against a tree, slide to the ground. He’d gone on short rations before, so why- (you haven’t been on short rations while breastfeeding before, you idiot.)

Oh yeah. 

He sat with his back against the tree, his head between his knees until the world steadied. Moomindottir wiggled in her sling, not liking being pressed so hard against his chest.

Something cold nosed at his hand. He looked up, one of the local forest creatures looked up at him with bright eyes.

“You alright, lass?” said the furry thing. “Looked like you had a bit of a turn there.”

“Yes.” he rubbed his face. Moomindottir decided she had had enough of this and started wailing.

“Oh my, what a pair of lungs on that one.” the creature said, delighted as he craned his head to get a better look. “She’s a bonny one, aye.”

“She’s hungry, I think.” he reached under the sling to unbutton his shirt and rearranged her. She hiccuped and latched on easily. “How far is it to moomin valley from here?”

“Oh a good 10 miles as the crow flies.” he chuckled. “And 20 as the possum crawls as my da used to say.”

Close, not close enough. He rubbed his face, mind cloudy. 

“Anything I can do to help a new mum?”

“Do you have anything to eat?” popped out before he could stop it. He hated asking, but this- The forest creature puffed out proudly. “You are looking at the number one fisher martin in the river! If it’s fish you want, I can get it!”

“Yes, thank you.”

“You build the fire lass, I’ll bring back the supper.” and with a flick of his tail he was off into the water. He was going to regret this, but at least he could regret it on a full stomach. 

 

The fisher martin was true to his word, dropping fish after fish by the small campfire he’d build up, and he ended up with a small audience by the time he’d gotten the first few cooked. A new baby was a curiosity for some reason, and everyone wanted to get in a good look and a sniff. His daughter just blinked at the visitors before yawning. 

“Lookit all that red hair, just like her mama.” one cooed. “Her little paws…”

“She’s very fine, yep. Good and fat.” another declared approvingly. “Good and fat.”

He kept her in his lap as he cooked and ate, trying not to snap at the visitors. If only he knew where that protective streak was coming from. 

“If you don’t mind me saying, lass, you look pretty rough. And the wean looks pretty new.” Fisher martin looked at him in concern. 

“She’s only a week old.” there were gasps from his audience.

“A week?”

“And you’ve been traveling? With a newborn?”

“It hasn’t been too bad. Thank you for the fish.”

“Aye, well… you better get some rest lass, it’s a long ways to moominvalley.”

 

The food helped, and he’d wrapped up the extra fish in some paper to take with him. But he still woke up exhausted. Considering he’d woken up twice to feed the baby and change her… it barely counted as sleeping anyway. Well, the sooner he started walking, the sooner he’d be home in moominvalley and the sooner he was there, the sooner he could eat his weight in pancakes and sleep for a month. Let moominmamma fuss over her grandbaby for a while.

The days slid into each other, at one point he woke up under a tree without remembering sitting down. 

He was very close. He just had to keep going. 

He was on the bridge on the path to the house before he realized it, having been walking half asleep for hours now. The house looked quiet, the family still asleep, but still! 

He let himself in, pulling the dust cover off the couch and carefully placing the sleeping baby down before getting firewood. Warmth first. Then raiding the kitchen for anything edible. Sleep. Build the fire, scarf down an entire jar of jam and all the apple rings he could find. Kick off his boots, lay down in front of the fire with the baby in his arms and sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried not to be too graphic with the birth but- I'm a nurse by profession and gross by nature. somehow, I've written twelve pages of this, and I hope the slowdown in comments and such is just less people interacting with the fandom and not because I've scared everyone off!  
> please enjoy this !


	4. Chapter 4

It was a little bit of a shock to wake up from hibernation to find snufkin on the floor of the living room. He was pale in the firelight, much too pale. But something wiggled in his arms-

Moomin was downstairs in a moment, his parents not too far behind. 

“Snufkin?” he shook his shoulder, carefully, as if he might break. There was a grumble, swatting at him before the wiggling thing fussed. 

Snufkin was awake in a moment, blinking at moomin right before getting engulfed in a hug. 

“You’re back you’re back and-” it clicked. “Baby?”

“Yeah.” he put moomindottir on his lap, carefully unwrapping her so everyone could see. She had gotten bigger in the last week, the travel not bothering her at all. She kicked her feet now that they were free before looking at all the new faces looking down at her and cooing. 

“She’s so big!” moomin carefully picked her up, unsure of how to hold her. “Oh she has my tail!”

Moominmamma was watching snufkin more, he was hunched over, looking exhausted. The infant was far too big for being a newborn. 

“Moomin, I’m going to take snufkin upstairs to make sure he’s okay and put him to bed. Will you watch moomindottir for a little while?”

“Sure.” pappa had already taken dottir, tickling her fuzzy belly to make her giggle.

Snufkin needed help getting to his feet, swaying a little. She took him upstairs, arm around his waist. His belly was still soft, but he felt much thinner than he should be. Still, she didn’t ask yet, just helping him wash up and get into a dressing gown. He’d kept the rag pads she’d sewn up for him one year, and there was much more blood than should be this long after birth on the one he was wearing.

“Sweety, when did you deliver?”

“Um…” he rubbed his face. With his hair having grown out, he looked much more like a young woman than she’d ever seen before. “Two weeks? I lost track of time.”

“I need to check you, down there. It might hurt.”

“It’s okay.” he just looked grateful to lay down. She tried to be gentle, but he grunted and flinched. It didn’t feel like there were any tears, so she felt his belly, pressing down hard to feel his womb. Grandmother moomin’s book said that if it felt soft, one had to massage it firmly for a few minutes to help it moved back down into place. Snufkin grunted again, but didn’t complain, even though it was clear it hurt him.

“I don’t think you have an infection or a tear. But you are feverish.” she helped him put on a new pad before wrapping him up in the blankets. It was hard not to kiss and cuddle on him, he was so proud of his independence. “What happened?”

“It just happened quickly. It… took me longer to get here than I thought, and I ran out of food....” he leaned into her, accepting her arm around him. Well, that explained some things. “Why is so easy for the mymble to have a baby and not me?”

“You did very well, dearest.” she gave in and kissed the top of his head, it was what he needed. “You have a perfect baby. Now you just need to let us fuss on you, and REST.”

“Thank you mamma… um…” he ran a hand down his chest, where his breasts were swollen. He’d have to nurse soon to release some of the pressure. “Should I… wear dresses from now on?”

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t know. I call myself a man, think of myself as a woman sometimes… I don’t look the same now, I don’t…” snufkin twisted his fingers in the blanket, this was hard. He never talked about it before to anyone because he didn’t even know. Maybe he was somewhere in between.

“You don’t have to choose one or the other, snufkin. Moomin will always love you and the baby. We will too. Now, it looks like you’re ready to give the baby her supper, and I will fix some for you.”

“Thank you momma. I…” and snufkin, who had spent most of their life keeping everyone at arm’s reach finally said- “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry. I thought about it yesterday morning and ended up writing six pages worth of this fic in a sitting. please don't be mad at me. I've written alot of this.


End file.
